


The Owl's Appendices

by Lusey



Series: Night Owls and Other Works [2]
Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-06-01 16:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15146687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lusey/pseuds/Lusey
Summary: Other tales, other lives.Short drabbles of other characters within the universe of A Night Owl's Guide to Trolls that otherwise don't have a narrative within the primary story.





	1. Andromeda - Call in the Dark

_[APPROX 200 YEARS AGO...]_

 

“Where are we going, Uncle?”

 

Two of Dictatious’ six eyes looked down at the violet whelp holding to his lowermost hand. It still shocked him, sometimes, looking down at the little changeling and remembering that this poor creature, with only two eyes and with two overgrown ears, had once been fully of his species’ blood. To be twisted like this...

 

Ah, but Dictatious had not brought his young ward out here to lament on the loss of a fellow pannoxi troll, rare as they were, to the unholy magic of the Impure.

“Patience, sweet child,” he said in a low tone, reaching the threshold of Gunmar’s fortress and going beyond, out into the endless labyrinth that was the Darklands. “Today, I’ve decided your lesson will be a bit more... _practical_ , than usual.”

He heard Andromeda murmur a quiet okay, still clutching to his hand. Still, it was clear they weren’t keen on leaving the safety of the fortress, and they hugged their strange goblin companion close to their chest for comfort. Dictatious never did understand why they kept the disgusting little thing, but allowing them their _pet_ seemed to keep them happier, at the very least.

They listened to him more.

 

A chill wind whipped through the chasm, causing Dictatious to shiver and clutch to his cape with two free hands. He was never sure if it was colder out here, or in the fortress in Gunmar’s icy, glorious presence, but at least in the stronghold there were fires to warm the hands of Gumm-Gumm soldiers. The sooner this lesson is done, the sooner they can return.

They walked until they were just out of sight of the great fort, standing at a cliff’s edge overlooking a vast obsidian canyon. Dictatious removed his hand from his nephling’s, and folded all behind his back. The little one looked up at him with big blue eyes, cradling their dark, adolescent goblin with an inquisitive look. Impure they may be, there was no mistaking the pannoxi look of curiosity in their features, and it was one of the few things that made Dictatious actually _feel_ something in this dark, miserable place.

 

“Your lesson today will be about survival.”

The changeling looked up at him again, this time full of worry.  
“Am I gonna have to go out there by myself?” They asked shakily. Dictatious merely laughed.

“Oh don’t be foolish, Andromeda. You’d hardly last ten minutes if I had you try to fend for yourself for once! No, no, this is a lesson for when you are older, when you may be without my help.”

They scanned out over the canyon, brows furrowing. “Then what am I learning?”

Dictatious sighed. Always the questions. So much like his little brother.

“You’re learning to roar.” He stretched an arm out, gesturing to the expanse of the Darklands. “I will not always be capable of protecting you, Andromeda, and the Darklands devours the weak such as yourself. Our kind is not strong like a Gumm-Gumm, but we are cunning.” He raised another hand with a pointing finger. “You wouldn’t last a day out there, but if you remember this trick, it’ll keep you alive long enough for me to find you.”

 

He took a step back from the ledge, and showed by example how to suck in a good breath... And took a few takes to explain, as he noticed Andromeda trying to mimic him, even going as far as to gently set down their little friend to do so.

“In through the nose,” he tapped their shoulders gently. “No, no. do not breathe with your shoulders, breathe with your belly. Good. There you go.”

Andromeda sucked in a breath and held it, waiting expectantly for Dictatious to explain the next move, much to his amusement. He chuckled, patting them on the head. “Now now, you’re going to pass out if you hold your breath any longer. Now, here’s how your uncle roars.”

 

He flared his nostrils, took in a deep lungful of air, and with four tightly closed fists, he belted out a loud and fearsome pannoxi troll roar.

 

His pupil laughed.

 

He looked down at the changeling child beside him with raised brows and low lidded eyes, expression unreadable as they waited patiently for the whelp to finish as they rolled on the floor, their goblin having to step just out of the way of their kicking feet.

”And what has you laughing, little one?” He asked.

“You sounded like you were burping,” Andromeda giggled.

Dictatious’ eyes glinted, and he barely held back a smile.

“Oho, you find my roar funny, do you?” He gestured down into the gorge with one hand. “Go on, then, perhaps you ought to hear it from a distance. All the way to the bottom, where you can’t see me.”

Andromeda looked on in fear, fidgeting with all four of their little hands. Dictatious merely sighed at their hesitance.

“Don’t worry. There are no wild nyarlagroths this close to Gunmar’s fortress. You’ll be quite safe.” He nudged them gently towards the path that led down into the canyon. “And take your _pet_ with you. If you manage to get lost, he can guide you back to me.”

 

They fidgeted some more, but they trusted their mentor’s encouragement, and, scooping their goblin up into their arms, they murmured an “okay” before descending down the path. Dictatious figured it would take about ten minutes for them to find a suitable spot, given their diminutive size and nervous disposition. Dictatious waited patiently until their scuffling was no more, out of range, and he peeked over the edge to see a small purple dot, far away and standing still. Perfect. He took a step back, so as not to be seen, and did the same as before. He sucked in a deep breath, and let out a nearly identical roar to the first.

 

He lifted an ear, reveling in the fearsome sound it created through the canyon, and enjoying not being interrupted by laughter. He chuckled to himself, then started his own way down the canyon, occasionally taking it upon himself to climb down the cliff walls now and then, rather than walk the path... But when he got to the bottom, he realized that Andromeda was nowhere to be found.

“Andromeda?” He called out, walking further into the canyon’s base. “Andromeda! Come out, now.”

Nothing. Just perfect. The advisor grumbled to himself for a moment. It couldn’t have been a rogue, not this close to home, no... But they _have_ to be nearby.

“Chuka!” He barked, calling for the goblin that stuck to his nephling like glue. “Sound off! I cannot find you.”

Even if the creature was not part of any goblin pack, it still listened to him like any other, perhaps out of loyalty to their changeling companion, perhaps out of instinct, it wasn’t clear. What _was_ clear was a sharp goblinese cry, due northwest from Dictatious’ location. A locating signal that he followed dutifully, growing closer and closer to the cliff walls. Indeed, there was a little alcove, a fissure or perhaps a poorly tunneled cave, just small enough for a troll whelp to hide in.

 

Dictatious sighed, and got down on one knee, peeking inside.

 

Andromeda sat there, hugging their knees tight to their chest with wide, fearful eyes. Scared to the point of being unable to move, but shivering all the same. Chuka lay curled over their feet, patient and watching Dictatious with a usual goblin leer. Had it been anybody else’s whelp, he may have rolled his eyes. Instead, he very gently called out for the nephling.

“Andromeda? Come on out now.”

They shivered, but turned their head, still terrified. “Is it gone?” They whispered.

Dictatious chuckled. “Fear not, little one. What you heard was me.”

They stared at him, dumbfounded. “B-but it was scary... It was a big monster, not—“

“ _N_ _ot_ a funny burping noise, eh?” Dictatious nearly grinned, then reached out two arms. “Now out you come.”

 

They stood, shakily, nervously peeking out from their hidey hole, as if the monster was still a very real thing. When they assured themselves the coast was clear, they bolted, leaping into Dictatious’ waking arms and clinging onto him for dear life. The goblin, Chuka, merely walked out with quiet little chatters.

He smiled, hugging them close with all four arms while they hid their face in the crook of his neck, still shaking, just a little.

“There, there,” He said reassuredly. “Your uncle is here. You’re safe.”

 

He never had the kick of parental instincts that most trolls of his species had, but all the same he felt that it was best to take them home to get them a snack. Perhaps the goblins could fetch something from the surface... dash the thought for now, the lesson needed its conclusion!

“You see,” He said, walking up the gorge’s pathway. “That’s what’s terribly unique about our roar. Up close, it’s a rather miserable sound, but echoed from great distances, it’d make even the fiercest Gumm-Gumm wet his loincloth. It’s how our species survived the threat of invaders and nosy fleshbags for millennia.”

They sniffled a little from the cool air, and finally unburied their little head.

“Can I do that too?” They asked.

“Not yet, Andromeda.” Dictatious replied. “You’re far too little to be able to. But when you’re older, there might be times when I won’t be able to help you, such as if they decide to send you to the surface world. You’ll likely always be rather small, it’s just how our kind is, you see, but if you’re in danger, all you have to do is find someplace that echoes and roar, and send your enemies running for the hills!”

 

There was a quiet lull as they approached the great Gumm-Gumm fortress, the sound of stone feet and goblin mutterings filling the space around them. Andromeda has coming down from their spot of terror, and was thinking very hard, as many young pannoxi do.

 

“Do you think it could scare Gunmar?” They asked quietly, thinking that it was the only logical thing to wonder about at the time.

Dictatious laughed as they crossed through the gates, the guards standing at attention as the warlord’s second in command strolled by.

“If the Dark Underlord fears _anything_ , I’d love to hear about it, if only so I can take great measures to avoid it myself. If anything frightens him, then it is far more unfathomably terrible than anything else in the universe.”

“Even a hungry nyarlagroth?”

“Even a _starving_ nyarlagroth.”

They made a noise of wonderment as Dictatious ascended some stairs, passing by a pack of goblins that gave him a wide berth, but took the time to hiss at Chuka, who scuttled about after him and the whelp in their arms.

 

Andromeda had finally settled, comfortable in their caretakers arms, and looked about the familiar walls with a sense of foreboding that never really went away. Dictatious noticed it, and hefted them just a little bit further up his shoulder.

“Now, now, don’t get too distracted,” He said. “You’ve got some more trollish writing lessons this afternoon.”

Whenever afternoon was anyways in this eternally dark place... he’d lost track of keeping time at least fifty years ago at this point. He looked to his adopted nephling, noticing their worried look, and nodded knowingly.

“You want to rest first, don’t you?”

“How did you know?” They asked in wonderment.

“I’m your Uncle! I know everything.”

 

They pondered this, and nodded in a very sagely fashion. This surely was the truth. Dictatious always told the truth.

 

He rounded a corner and walked through the doorway to the small, drab room that he’d made somewhat hospitable in his time in this prison world. A few stolen books, plenty of parchment and inkwells and quills, and some shabby bedding that had been graciously “lended” to Dictatious from the changeling nursery’s caretakers. It was nothing like the gracious glow of his old home’s shining violet heartstone, but it was the best he could manage, and complaining wasn’t really an option.

Gently, he set them down in that bedding, letting the changeling child get comfortable while he moved to a stone table that was slightly lopsided, what with it being a large slab of rock on two uneven pieces of smaller, fatter pieces of unidentifiable stone. There, he spread out more parchment, grabbed a quill, and...

 

“Uncle?”

 

Two eyes moved from the work below him to the little changeling, the remaining four focusing on the paper as he started to scribble some notes down for later. Andromeda had curled up on the bedding, with Chuka draped over their back, already asleep.

“Yes?” Dictatious asked.

“Can you tell me the story about how you escaped from the evil Trollhunter?”

 

That put a stop to Dictatious’ writing, and suddenly all six eyes were trained on the young one. He had half a mind to point out that for them, all Trollhunters were evil, but he knew that they were referring to Tellad-Ur. The very memory of the name caused him to shiver, but... it was an important story, he thought. He set down his pen.

“I don’t see why not.” He said simply, walking over to sit down beside the changeling. Their eyes glittered, and they shuffled closer so they could press up against his leg.

He waited patiently for them to get comfortable, folding his four arms as he tried to gather up his less than favorable childhood memories of the event. When he was sure they were done, still and content, he nodded his head briefly, and figured out where exactly to start.

 

“When Tellad-Ur turned on his people, I was just a little bit older than you are now...”


	2. Mordecai - Photos at Dusk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordecai takes some pictures

Mordecai felt eyes on the back of his head.

 

He’d felt the eyes since he’d come to Arcadia, to the surrounding Los Angeles area.

 

San Francisco had been a safe, quiet home from him, far away from troubles and under the radar and enjoying life’s little things. No schemes, no trying to get ahead, no pointless competition.

And yet, he knew there was always a chance he’d still be sought out. Big plans, after all, and he’d always been the smartest, as far as he’d been told.

 

It was probably just more push for competition.

 

He sighed, clicking his camera buttons as he checked the exposure settings. Tonight, he wanted to get the lights of Arcadia _and_ the Milky Way. It’d be a long exposure, and it had to be just right to not wash it all out.

 

Wide aperture. Two to ten shutter. A crunch of leaves in the distance.

 

His shoulders stiffened. That last one was not part of the formula.

 

Mordecai listened closely, but heard nothing else but his camera at work. No more crunching. Still, he was on edge now, and kept his senses as sharp as he could manage. Act natural, remain out of the way. It may just be hikers. It had to be hikers. The people in this town loved to go camping in the foothills around the city. It made for good vistas in the crisp mornings, before the scorching southern California heat had touched the land. He’d considered camping too, one of these days, in order to get that cherished sunrise. He loved the night, but he loved the thresholds in between just as much. He didn’t get those sorts of views in the coldness of his old home. Sometimes it didn’t feel like there was any true change of time there anyways. Always the same, night and day, always people busying about, always people telling him to stop drifting off and return to tedious studies.

 

He hated that he couldn’t even daydream back then.

 

 _'Ridiculous_ ’, he thought. ‘ _They’re not here, they’re not looking for you’_  

The people who raised him surely wouldn’t waste resources on finding a runaway like him. A disappointment to their name, a waste of an adoption. He was encouraged to succeed, but never encouraged, and he’d hoped they’d give up the moment he truly got away.

 

They surely wouldn’t waste their time.

 

The photo completed, and he looked up into the sky with a sigh.

Maybe coming to Arcadia was too dangerous of a move for him to make...

He packed up his things as calmly as he could, even when he heard the leaves crunch again.

Everything in the bag was zipped up, and he looked up into the sky again. Nothing but starlight. Truly beautiful. So much better than New York... but no less frightful.

 

He took off into the night at the sound of a snapping branch.

 

Arcadia was a bad place for him to be. He’d be found if he slipped up like this again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short this time. Just a lil something about that sweet photographer from chapter 14 of A Night Owl's Guide to Trolls
> 
> Short and sweet! And a lil hint about Mordy's past, since he doesn't like to talk about it much :P

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! This is gonna be kind of a chapters-at-random series of shortfics and drabbles.
> 
> History fixes here, ocs there, stuff that just doesn't quite work in the main narrative but either goes into more detail on events that set up characters or just on ocs and characters that aren't in the spotlight.
> 
> Oh! Nephling is another way of saying nibling, which is the gender neutral term for a nephew or niece. Andromeda is nonbinary, and had that figured out from a pretty early age. What can I say? It's just easier for trolls.
> 
> Also nephling sounds cool. fight me.


End file.
